


disarray

by dtksama (orphan_account)



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Blood, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-12 23:29:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16005551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/dtksama
Summary: relief is hard to come by.





	disarray

the disarray of his mind was drowned out the deeper he pressed the razor into his skin. Blood flowed out in ribbons, warm drops streaming down his arms and dripping onto the bed. It was a mess, it was disgusting and unruly and he purposefully made it that way- it was how he felt, it was what he deserved. The asymmetry of the wounds only served to deepen his craving to hurt himself, to create pain so great that he felt he had atoned for his existence. The books on his shelf were never neat enough, the paintings never straight enough, his handwriting never perfect enough. 

_ perfect _ , that was the poison he had infected himself with. 

it all crowded in on him, making breathing difficult and thinking rationally even harder. there was nothing he could think to do but to punish himself, focusing on the pain and driving himself deeper into self hatred.

death the kid was a mess on the inside, and he would make the outside match his imperfection.

_ I deserve this.  _

he thinks back on every mistake he’d made that day, each one piling up on his shoulders and driving the blade deeper, faster. He was supposed to be the perfect boy, he was supposed to be a god, but nothing he ever did measured up. the world made him feel jumbled and anxious at all times, the imbalance and disorder itching at his mind constantly. he couldn’t take it anymore, there was nothing he could do to fix it, there was nothing he could do to fix himself. 

the lines become jagged the more his hands shake, the blood dripping and dripping and staining and he’s running out of room, so he hikes his wet sleeves up even further. 

_ disgusting, worthless, garbage...I should just die.  _

He couldn’t stop, pace quickening, begging for any kind of relief that came with self punishment. none came, and instead of the world being hushed, everything became ten times more overwhelming because the blood dripping in front of him was in uneven globs, and he could barely see through his tears, and he couldn’t get his lungs to work or his hands to steady. The pain wasn't working, it wasn't distracting him the way he wanted.

he felt like he was dying, like he’d missed a step on the stairs, like the room was going to swallow him up. 

He didn’t feel the hands on him, shaking him, the razor being plucked from his fingers, until the ringing in his ears becomes a voice.

“o-oh my god...oh my god…”

the hushed whisper of his partner, liz. his bleary vision trails upward and he sees her through the black bangs that hang in front of his face. 

she’s crying, as she places the razor behind her.

“kidd, what...what did you do? why? shit…” 

she mumbles, frantically fidgeting, tucking her long hair behind her ears, biting her nails. 

“just wait here, fuck.” she says abruptly, grabbing the item from behind her and standing up, nearly running out of the room.

“d-d-” 

_ don’t go,  _

He wants to say, but she’s already gone. He hears thumping around and panicked talking, and then her footsteps return along with the clacking of the door. 

she’s in front of him again, and the wants to wipe the tears of his face but there’s blood all over his hands and arms and clothes and  _ everything  _ and he can’t stop crying or shaking and he can’t breathe, all he can manage is a strangled sob. 

“Okay, it’s okay, kidd, lets just…” she tries to sound reassuring, but it isn’t convincing because liz sounds terrified and breathless. 

She carefully takes his hand in hers, her other hand working to press a white gauze on the worst of the cuts, the one so deep that it nearly reaches bone. the gauze soaks up blood quickly, and she removes it and places a clean one there, quick to wrap white bandages around his arm many times over. red seeps through them, and she bites her lip, wrapping more and more. 

he feels lightheaded, he isn’t sure if it’s the blood loss or the lack of oxygen. probably both. if he was human, he may he dead by now. 

She moves to the other arm, following the same procedure and whispering comfort to him.

“shh...it’s okay..it’s okay. you’re gonna be fine…”

he isn’t sure if she’s convincing him, or herself. either way, it doesn’t work. 

she seems to realize this as well, securing the bandage and hesitating a moment before grabbing his shoulders in a futile attempt to stop his incessent shaking. 

“you have to breathe. you aren’t breathing…” 

she commands, long fingers gripping him tighter. 

he looks up at her, teeth grit and tears flowing. 

“kid..please…”

all he can do is shake his head.

_ I can’t. I don’t remember how. _

he begs with his eyes, arms falling limply to his sides.

she reads him like a book.

“like this, come on.” she takes a deep breath, its shakey because she isn’t exactly calm either. 

he tries his best, but it comes in stuttering and choking and he resumes his frantic panting.

“that’s okay...it’s okay. try again.”

he isn’t sure how long they’re sitting there attempting breath together, until suddenly he becomes aware that he  _ can  _ breathe again, the world becoming clearer and his body feels grounded again. 

he also realizes just how much he’d fucked up. 

blood was everywhere. it stained the hardwood, his pants, his shirt. it was on his hands, it was seeping through the thick bandages liz had wrapped him in. sweat rolls down his face, and he takes a deep breath and sigh. he sees liz’s hands and jeans, his blood is on them. he can’t look at her face because he can hear her crying and he can’t bear to see that. 

“liz..i’m sorry-”

he’s cut off when long arms wrap around him and pull him in tight, fingers carding through his hair. 

“why did you do this?”

her voice is soft and embedded with tears.

he takes a moment to think about it, and decides he’s too emotionally and physically exhausted to come up with a lie.

“I deserve it.” 

“No, kidd. no...no.”

they stay like that a little while, she’s hugging him and petting his hair, he eventually awkwardly places an arm around her as well. 

“we are gonna get you help. I promise you...you’ll get better.” 

he didn’t want help. he didn’t want to be someone who  _ needed  _ help. he let tears roll down his cheeks again. 

“I don't want help. I want to be perfect. Why can’t I be perfect, liz? no matter what I do…”

she doesn’t know what to say that will convince him. so she doesn’t, and he continues.

“..nothing is ever right. nothing is symmetrical and I can’t ever fix it because i’m not good enough. it drives me insane, I don’t know what to do. I deserve to die, i’m trash…”

“stop. don’t say that.”

liz recalled the many, many times she had heard him say those words, and dismissed it as overreacting.

guilt washed over her in waves at the thought. 

“I love you, kiddo, like a little brother. you know that. so it’s my job to protect you, just like how you protect me and patty all the time. we have to be here for eachother, right? so...please, you don’t have to go through this alone. you need to get help. patty and I will be here for you, no matter what.” she says softly into his hair, and he hugs her tighter. 

“thank you, liz.”

he wasn’t ready to accept help from anyone, but knowing his weapons cared for him was all he needed in that moment.

 


End file.
